Why Me?
by chelsXXchels
Summary: Randy stood up slowly, as did his parents. “You ready?” he heard his dad ask. Randy nodded and started to walk forward. He could feel his dad’s arm slip around his shoulders. Was it really just a few hours ago that his dad had told him that he would be ok
1. The News

**Author's Note:** So, this is my first Home Improvement story. It is based around "The Longest Day". In the episode, there is a possibility that Randy could have cancer, but instead he has Hypothyroidism. So, I decided to change the results because I thought it would be good reading. Hope you like! If you do, please leave a comment, because I will refuse to update before I get at least one.

**Why Him?**

**The News**

_By: Chelsea_

**Summary****: Randy stood up slowly, as did his parents. "You ready?" he heard his dad ask. Randy nodded and started to walk forward. He could feel his dad's arm slip around his shoulders. Could it really have been just a few hours ago that Randy was at the arcade, afraid that he would die? Was it really just a few hours ago that his dad reassured him that it would be okay? Yet here they were, back at the clinic. **

**Rating****: K+… possible language use and possible sexual content in the future.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not in anyway own Home Improvement, any of its characters, its ideas, or plots. Come on, if I did, this would **_**not**_** be posted on FanFiction.**

_Chapter One: The News…_

Randy sat in the hard chair in the waiting room of the clinic. Only an hour ago he had been playing scrabble with his mom and dad, he had been pacing nervously, only an hour ago. Then the call came – the one that said they needed to come back to the clinic. Now he was sitting between his parents. His dad was flipping through one of the magazines that sat on the coffee table. Randy could tell that his dad was even looking at the magazine, considering they had been there for 10 minutes, his dad was still on page one and his dad had a glazed look over his eyes.

Randy looked to his right – his mom. She was biting her fingernails, her eyes darting around the small waiting room. Randy heard a crack and he looked away from his mom in the direction of the door. An elderly nurse came through, "Randy Taylor, the doctor is ready to see you."

Randy stood up slowly, as did his parents. "You ready?" he heard his dad ask. Randy nodded and started to walk forward. He could feel his dad's arm slip around his shoulders. Could it really have been just a few hours ago that Randy was at the arcade, afraid that he would die? Was it really just a few hours ago that his dad reassured him that it would be okay? Yet here they were, back at the clinic.

Randy walked down the hallway following the elderly nurse, with one parent on each side of him. After a minute or so, they had passed 6 rooms and the nurse opened the door to the 7th. "Here you go," she said, stepping aside for them to enter. Randy entered the room and took a deep breath. He walked over to the bed and sat down, his dad sat down to his left and mom on his right.

After a few minutes, the doctor walked in and gave them a small smile. "Hello," he said. Randy gave him a small smile back. Randy sat there, nervously, waiting for the doctor to say something. "I couldn't bare to tell you this on the phone," the doctor began. Randy wondered why he couldn't just say it, get the wait over with. "I'm really sorry," the doctor said in a small voice looking at Randy's mom, then Randy, then Randy's dad. Finally he focused on Randy again, "the lump is malignant."

Randy sat there, unbelieving. He looked at his dad. How could his dad have done that? Tell him it was going to be okay? He felt his mother's grip on his hand tighten as his dad pulled him into a hug, but for some reason, he didn't feel like it was really happening. He felt like this was too much to happen to _him_. He felt like an outsider looking in. Like, this was just a movie and he was just a movie-goer. How could this happen, was all he could think.

After what felt like an eternity to Randy, but was really just 10 minutes, his dad released him from the hug. Randy looked up into his dad's face. His dad had tears streaming down his face and then a thought occurred to him, had he ever seen his dad cry before? Randy couldn't look at that face, just knowing that he had caused someone as strong as his dad to cry was enough to look away. Randy didn't dare look at his mom. So, instead, he looked at the doctor. Randy thought it was funny, he thought he should cry or be upset, but he wasn't. The truth was, he didn't feel. It was probably just the shock, but like I said, he felt like a movie-goer.

"So," Randy said quietly to the doctor, "now what?" The doctor gulped at the question and looked at the two adults.

"I'd like to talk to your parents, if that's okay," the doctor said. Randy shook his head; it was probably about treatment or something like that. Randy stood up from the bed and looked back at his parents.

"Just wait in the hall," Randy's dad said. Randy, once again, shook his head and went into the hall. He closed the door behind him and walked about a foot farther down the hall. Thinking about what was going to happen; he leaned up against the wall and slid down into a sitting position. Why was he always the one to get sick? Why him? Was he going to die? He didn't want to die.

20 minutes later, Randy's parents walked out of the room, his dad's face was red, but there were no more tears. His mom, however, still had some tears, although they didn't seem to falling from her eyes. They looked more like left-over tears that she hadn't wiped away yet. His mom attempted to smile cheerily at him, but failed and it actually looked like the smiles you give to the homeless people you feel sorry for.

Randy stood up. "So?" he asked, slightly curious as to what was going to happen.

"Come on," his dad said, "we'll talk at home." His dad opened his arm and Randy fell into it. They walked down the hallway in that half-hug. Randy didn't want to leave it, it felt so safe. His mom was on the other side of his dad, holding his hand. Walking out of the clinic, getting into the car, driving home, it was all a blur, seeing as the moment Randy went into his dad's arm, he began to cry. Not a sobbing cry, like most would do after hearing this news, but just a soft cry.

Randy and his parents pulled up to the house. Randy got out of the car and began to walk up to the door, wiping away the tears. His dad caught up to him, "Randy, do _you_ want to tell your brothers?" Randy knew what he meant. "I can do it for you if you want," his dad added. Randy shook his head 'yes' to that. He didn't want to tell them; that would be too hard. They entered the house; Mark and Brad were sitting on the couch watching TV.

"Hey," Brad said. "So, what's up?" he said, looking over the back of the couch. They hadn't even told Mark or Brad about the lump or its possibilities. Randy looked at them, his face was probably red, but at this moment he didn't care. He lowered his head and continued into the house, through the kitchen and down into the basement.

Randy fell onto his bed and began to cry. Not a soft cry like when you break up with your boyfriend, but a ferocious sob. While he buried his head into his pillow, all he could think was, why him? That's how he fell asleep that night; his head in his pillow, and thinking, why him?


	2. The Little Things

**Author's Note: **Okay, here is Chapter Two. I hope you guys like it. I'm still not sure what is going to happen to Randy (treatment wise, anyway). So, I'm going to have to do some research for the next chapter – so the update may take a little while longer. Please review! Thanks!

**Why Me?**

The Little Things

_By: Chelsea_

**Rating:**** K+… possible language use and sexual content in future chapters.**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Home Improvement, its characters, ideas, storylines, etc. I wish I did, but I do not… that is just the way it is.**

_Chapter Two: The Little Things…_

Randy rubbed his eyes with his hand and rolled over in the bed. Randy stared at the floor for a moment and thought about the upcoming day – then it hit him: he had cancer. You know when something really bad happens and then you wake up the next day and for a moment, just a moment, everything is okay. Then you realize something bad happened yesterday. Randy now hated that feeling.

Randy noticed that he was in different clothes than what he had fallen asleep in and that he was under the covers. His parents must have changed him while he was sleeping. He hopped down off the bed and stood there for a moment, did he want to go upstairs? After debating the issue for a few minutes, he began to walk up the stairs. What would his brothers do or say? Would they treat him differently? He opened the door at the top of the staircase and walked into the kitchen, bracing himself to be stared at like a monkey at a dinner party.

"Hey Randy," Brad said in the normal tone that he used every morning and Mark did the same. Randy gathered his eyebrows in confusion. Hadn't his dad told them? Didn't they care? "Milk?" Brad asked while holding the carton. Then Randy knew what happened, apparently his dad had told them not to treat his differently. "Well?" Brad asked raising his eyebrows when he noticed that Randy seemed to be in a daze.

Randy lifted his head from the floor, "Yeah." Or maybe they were acting the same on their own. Randy smiled at that thought. Brad handed him a glass as Randy walked over to the table. He set the glass down as he sat down in his normal spot next to Brad. Soon, Brad sat down, as did Mark, Randy's dad, and his mom. Randy silently ate the sand-dollar pancakes with flour chunks in them. Randy thought it was ironic that yesterday his mom made them to be nice. He now figured that he made them to make him feel better.

After breakfast, Randy walked down into the basement and sat down on his bed, thankful it was a Saturday. Randy didn't know what he would do when he went back to school. Would he go back to school? Or would they keep him out? A knock on Randy's sliding door interrupted his thoughts. Randy looked over at the door. Who was it, he thought, and did he want to talk to them. "Come in," he said.

The door slid opened to reveal Randy's older brother, Brad. "Hey," Randy heard Brad mumble. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

"Sure," Randy said, scooting over on the bed to make room. Brad hopped up on the bed next to him. Once Brad did so, Randy lowered his head and looked at the hands that were resting on his lap, waiting for Brad to say something, but he never did. Brad put his hand on Randy's back and Randy continued to look down. Sure, it was strange. But, in that strange way, it was comforting. In the fifteen minutes that they just sat there, Brad had told Randy that he cared, and that he would be there, just by putting his hand on his back and being silent. Randy needed that.

After the fifteen minutes, Brad finally spoke. "You okay?" he asked.

Randy, still not looking up, shook his head 'yes'. Brad stayed there another five minutes; as if he knew that Randy was lying.

Finally, Brad spoke again. "Do you want to do something? We could play soccer," Brad said.

Randy looked up at his brother. "Yeah, that sounds like fun," this time, Randy _wasn't_ lying. They hopped down off the bed and went up the stairs. Brad grabbed the ball from the chair by the door and they went outside and silently played soccer. It was probably the best game Randy had ever played with his brother. Just knowing that he had someone there who wouldn't cry or freak out over everything, made him feel better, a lot better.

After playing soccer for hours, Brad and Randy went back into the house and headed towards the couch. Brad turned on the TV. He didn't even ask what Randy wanted to watch, he never did. Randy was happy that he didn't start now. Randy wasn't even sure what they were watching, he was thinking. What was going to happen next to him? Was he going to have to have chemotherapy and loose his hair? Or maybe he wouldn't have to do anything like that. Maybe it would just be some shots, pills, and a surgery or two.

The time passed as Randy and Brad watched TV. Before Randy knew it, it was time for lunch. This meal, Randy noticed, wasn't as silent as the two previous ones. Mark talked about his choir practice and his dad talked about an idea for the show. This idle chit-chat that used to annoy Randy now made him joyful. It was kind of like all of the little things Randy used to take for granted or hate, he now enjoyed. To know that the world was still turning was a great reassurance.

Lunch passed, as did another hour, and Randy found himself walking into the garage. "Hey dad," he said. Randy's dad was working on the hot rod, as usual.

"Hey," his dad said back, looking up from the hot rod. "Do you want to help?" Randy nodded 'yes'. "Will you get me the box of nails over there," his dad said, pointing to the table with his head.

Randy walked around the hot rod and over to the table. He picked up the box and handed it to his dad. Randy never had a real interest in helping his dad with the hot rod before, but now he didn't mind.

"So, what are you thinking?" his dad asked him out of no where. Randy hadn't been expecting his dad to ask him a question like that. His dad never was one that was good with feelings.

Randy shrugged. "I don't know," he said. Randy was telling the truth. He didn't know _what_ he was thinking. All of his feelings were conflicted. He was sad, angry, confused, and so many other things, he didn't even know what all of them were called.

Randy looked at his dad. His dad nodded and then looked at him. "Are you scared?" he asked him. Once again, Randy was caught off-guard.

Randy looked at the floor and thought about this question for a few moments. Out of all the things he had been feeling the past 12 hours or so, he wasn't sure if fear was one of them. When Randy didn't answer, he heard his dad say, "You don't have to answer that."

Randy looked at his dad again. "Are _you_ scared?" he asked. If his dad was scared, maybe that meant that he should be scared, right?

Randy watched his dad. His dad slowly began to nod his head, "Yeah, yeah Randy, I am." Randy was happy that his dad had told him the truth. Randy took a step and filled the 1 foot gap that was in between him and his dad. Randy leaned into his dad and hugged him, and his dad hugged him back.

This was like seeing his dad cry. He had never seen his dad cry until they found out Randy had cancer. Never had Randy heard his dad admit that he was scared or fearful, until now. Something that the doctor had told his parents had made his dad cry. "Dad," Randy said, still in the hug, "what's going to happen?"


End file.
